


run aground

by martryn



Series: ecclesiastes [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, M/M, Mirror Universe, Multi, Other, Parallel Universes, T'hy'la, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 15:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12038880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martryn/pseuds/martryn
Summary: "For in much wisdom, is much grief; and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow."a new beginning, in a strange land





	run aground

 

She is wandering through the beams and rafters of the warp core, weaving along with the hum of the ship, when it hits.

Her hands grow limp, useless, crate full of new power cells and wires and shiny bits of glass tumble down from her arms as she hits the deck, hard and jarring, her head knocking a steady beat against the cold tile until she comes to a standstill.

For a long moment, no one notices, no one hears the flush of her soul bleeding out and through the cracks against the entire hull, trailing off into space in clots of clear, blues, reds, golds and all she can hear in those moments are the dying screams of ten thousand other souls being lost out there in the great, black void. Vaguely, she is aware of when voices and gentle hands pry her up off the Engineering floor, winds rushing past as she's carted off to the medbay.

It's all a blur and distant yells, flashing lights in her eyes, the smell of blood clogging her nose and she awakes three days later, long after the news broke.

_Vulcan._

An entire planet, gone in an instant and there is fear and horror at the millions dead, at the man responsible; at the travesty that has rocked the very core of the Federation. When they tell her, they wait, expecting the same outrage to break out onto her face, the vengeance to glisten in her eyes but they are met with the same blank stare she has always had.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who would have cared.

But she hasn't been that girl for some time.

Instead, she sits in her bed in medbay until she's cleared, and she wanders back to her quarters within the crewman barracks; all the while ignoring the lingering headache, the psionic blast that rendered her unconscious and half dead from the shock, and she fells an edge creeping towards her, like the squeal of tires off a cliff or the silence before the death knell of a firing squad, one that she resolutely ignores as she hides herself away.

She sits down at the desk tucked into the corner, flicks on the transceiver and waits.

The call rings, and rings, and rings.

No one answers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very slow work-in-progress, likely to have sporadic updates. do not expect regular activity.


End file.
